


Don't Cry, Dear

by ClaraRabit



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Dehumanization, Dissection, Gore, Medical Torture, Seriously some dark shit, Sorta Yandere, Starvation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 04:46:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,031
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12449931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ClaraRabit/pseuds/ClaraRabit
Summary: A mysterious CD labeled 'Thank You', and a heavy sense of dread.(Gore, dissection, evil doctors that I didn't bother to name. This is why I shouldn't be allowed to write whatever I want.Seriously, don't read if you're squeemish.)





	Don't Cry, Dear

**Author's Note:**

> Not proofread cause just the first half made my proofreader GF uncomfortable and I wasn't gonna make her read the actually gory half, so it might have some errors.
> 
> Last warning, don't read if you're at all squeemish. I will not be held accountable if you puke cause you ignored every warning I gave you.

   The first red flag was that the disk said “Thank You” in unfamiliar and far too neat handwriting.

   The second was that the first thing that appeared on the screen was a too-friendly looking man in a lab coat.

   “Oh, good! I finally got it to start recording.” The man announced, seeming more to himself than anyone else. “I'm using quite an old camera, so it was a bit of a process to get it working.”

   He put the device down, dusting off his hands and rolling up his sleeves before actually addressing the camera.

   “I must thank you for sending my pet back to me. I missed him terribly, and it's so much better with him home.” The spiel seemed both sincere and mildly taunting. “But, of course, I must punish you for taking him away from me in the first place. And I realized I needed to discipline him as well, so I figured I'd save time and do both at once!”

   The overly-energetic doctor moved to the side and shifted the camera a bit to bring an unsanitary-looking operation table into view.

   “You can bring him in now, boys!” He called to someone offscreen, and there was the sound of a door sliding. A bit of a struggle could be heard, and the man turned to the commotion.

   “Now now, pet. If you keep struggling you'll only make this worse on yourself.” He chastised, as if to a child that was misbehaving. “I don't have to train you again, do I?”

   The struggle stopped so abruptly it left an eerie silence in its place, and the doctor sneered.

   “That’s a good pet.” He praised, taunting clear in his tone, before addressing someone else in a much less friendly way. “Put him on the table and you are free to go.”

   After a few moments of quiet footsteps and shuffling, two uniformed men came into view, their faces indiscernible. Both held metal poles that connected to a collar on the man they were hauling in.

   The collar looked just slightly too tight, and chains kept the man’s similarly-bound hands at the middle of his back.

   There was a thick bag over his head, and the prisoner looked painfully malnourished, so it was difficult to tell who it was until he was properly secured to the table and the bag was removed.

   The most eye-catching thing was the muzzle over the bottom half of his face, with his nearly emotionless amber eyes being a close second.

   “Alright, off you two go.” The doctor hurried the guards out of the room, looking nearly giddy.

   Once the door could be heard sliding shut, he hurried over to his unwilling patient and put a gentle hand on his head. It would have seemed like a comforting gesture if not for the obsessive look in the doctor's eyes and the smile that only stretched wider when Victor started shaking.

   “Oh dear, are you a bit cold?” He taunted. “I’d get you a blanket if you hadn't behaved so  _ poorly _ recently.”

   With a click, the muzzle fell away, and the bar in it dripped with blood while the doctor carried it to the table the camera sat on.

   “I do wish this wasn't necessary, but you forced my hand.” He rambled, and it was unclear if he was talking about the muzzle or the current scenario.

   It may have been both, judging from how his ‘pet’s’ eyes were starting to water.

   “Oh, don't cry, dear.” The doctor cooed, his smile menacing and crazed. “You know the tears always get into the incisions.”

 

 

   It felt like an eternity before the screaming stopped, and by then the video was barely even half-way through. By the time the sickening surgeon put down the scalpel, Victor looked like he was about to pass out.

   The cuts were jagged, due to the mild struggling that had occured, but the doctor seemed satisfied with his dissection. Flaps of skin were pinned back in a gory display to show all of his patient’s organs, from the currently heaving lungs to the shriveled-looking digestive track.

   It was stomach-churning for all but the too-happy doctor. He seemed even  _ too _ interested on his handiwork.

   “That wasn't too bad, was it? The cuts would have been cleaner if you'd stayed still a bit more, but I'll forgive you just this once.” He cooed, holding his lab rat’s face in his palms with a gentleness that could only be false. “You're usually such a good boy. I'm sure it won't happen again, right dear?”

   There was a pause as he waited for a reply, and when none came he gripped his patient’s jaw with a significant amount of force.

   “ _ Right _ , dear?” He repeated, a threat hidden behind the simple phrase. Victor nodded quickly, looking more like a scared rabbit than a notorious criminal.

   “Good boy.” The doctor said, patting him on the head like a child.

   He clasped his gloved hands behind his back and hummed a bit, stepping back to admire his pet before running a finger down his exposed sternum. The doctor looked like an excited child as he dug his hand in between the lungs and pulled out the heart.

   The man strapped to the table convulsed a bit when he gripped it a bit too hard, tears running down his face again. He let out a low and pleading whine when the pressure let up.

   “Shhh, it's okay. It's alright.” The doctor soothed, running a hand down the pulsing red mass in his palm as if it were a comforting gesture before putting it back where it belonged.

   He must have realized his dissected subject was starting to fade from conciousness, as he placed a light kiss to the exposed bone above the heart and undid the clasps keeping the cut skin out of the way. The fact that the incisions didn't seem to be healing was a sign of just how starved Victor was.

   With a sigh, the doctor walked over to the camera and gave the lens a smile before he shut it off, static overtaking the screen and leaving a heavy mix of nausea and dread hanging in the air.

**Author's Note:**

> Tbh this was originally gonna be much worse but I toned it down for you. I'm just too good at writing this stuff.  
> First time I'm posting some of my really messed up stuff so sorry I probably won't make too much of a habit of this.


End file.
